


Lily of the Valley

by recordmachined



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Fluff, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Pirates, Romance, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-10-08 18:32:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17391476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/recordmachined/pseuds/recordmachined
Summary: To get away from his life in London, Brian travels to the Cornish countryside for a vacation. Little does he know what awaits him in the solitary woods and hidden creeks.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is shamelessly inspired by Frenchman's Creek by Daphne du Maurier, which is my absolute favourite and it was just begging to be written as a fic. This is may not be a hundred per cent accurate and I have taken some geographical and period typical liberties. I'm also bloody nervous about starting a series but I love the Victorian setting so here goes nothing.

_Prologue_

The people of Truro rarely ventured north on River Truro, but for a few sailors who, although reluctantly, found shelter there when strong winds drove them in-shore from their course due west, towards Truro town. They found the place lonely and a little frightening, because of the deafening silence only disturbed by the chirping of birds and twittering of the woodland creatures. When the winds were fair again, they were glad to set sail, making their way back towards the town. Rough fields and thick trees flanked the river on both sides, with no buildings or houses for miles around. A few cottages lay scattered nearby, but the river itself remained secluded by the trees and bushes crowding the banks.

The few cottage folks in vicinity never ventured towards the banks in the north, in fear of getting lost amongst the dense woods. The river remained explored, untouched, solely belonging to the birds and the animals.

As did the creek, which was situated north-west from Truro town, further upstream, hidden amongst the trees and rocks that crowded the water’s edge. Leaves rustled in the wind, like whispers along the shallows of the creek. Shadows of the trees fell on the water, creating the looming apparition of ship secretly anchored in the creek, with its tall masts pointing towards the skies.

People from the houses nearby always recounted mysterious tales of the creek, especially during one summer, when it became a place of refuge and held a profound secret.

 

~ 

 

_May 1820_

The midday sun was bright in the sky as the coach rattled through the narrow country pathway. The driver panted, clutching the reins in one hand and wiping the sweat off his brow with the other. Their journey had been long and tiring, one from London to Cornwall. They had been riding for days since leaving, and hours since that morning. The driver was quite literally gasping for a drink of water.

As if his silent request had been heard, the road broadened, and he noticed a little village in the distance. Upon entering, the driver drew up outside a tavern. He hopped off his seat and walked inside, requesting water for himself and for the horses. He strolled back towards the coach, stretching the sore muscles of his back.

Presently, the window of the coach flung open before a face leant out, traces of sleep still evident on the eyes.

“Why have we stopped?” His passenger asked, gently rubbing his eyes with the tips of his fingers. His voice was rough from sleep but his manner polite.

“The horses needed water, sir, and if I may say so, I needed a rest too,” the driver replied. “I apologise for the delay.”

“Oh, not at all,” his passenger assured. “There is no rush, take all the time you need.”

“Thank you,” the driver bowed and sat on the bench outside the tavern, happily accepting the water and bread that the barman offered. As he watched the horses drink, he noticed his passenger step out of the coach and wander towards the nearby woods.

Brian stood in front of what looked an orchard of apple trees, breathing in the refreshing country air. He hadn’t been very keen on taking this trip and had thought of turning around and heading back to London on more than one occasion. But now, whilst he stood facing the trees and dense grass, inhaling the clean, crisp air as opposed to the sooty, dank stench of London, he felt rather optimistic about his impromptu vacation.

John had been right, he thought to himself with a smile.

“What you need is a vacation, Brian,” he recalled John saying to him with an affectionate smile. “Go my house near Truro down south. Stay there for a few weeks, or a month or two if you like. It might do you well. It is somewhat pitiful to watch you brooding.”

Cautious by nature, Brian had had doubts regarding the journey. He terribly needed a break, but that meant uprooting himself from his current studies and research. Which, presently, was left purposeless anyway. A sense of frustration and futility had been growing upon him for months when it came to his studies and work.

Ever since he was a young lad, Brian had been fascinated with the stars and the universe. Having performed exceedingly well throughout school, it was easy for him to secure a mentor, under whom his endeavours towards studying the universe had advanced. But due to insufficient grants, there came about a lull, which left most budding astronomers without work.

Although he was disheartened at first, Brian continued with his writings, not having the heart to give up on his dreams. But there was only so much he could do, especially when his colleagues had started to give up hope completely. He was presented with the choice of travelling to other countries, where the opportunities were better, but he wasn’t a rich man to sustain such a long journey abroad.

John had noticed Brian growing melancholy by the day and decided to intervene. Perhaps what Brian needed was a change of scenery, a vacation. He was reluctant to leave Brian all by himself but it would only be for a few weeks until he could join him.

“Go to Truro,” John said. “I will send word to the manor and the servants will be ready for you. You have always wanted to travel and, the countryside should do you some good.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “You can hardly call going to the countryside travel. I want to see the world, John, and meet other astronomers.”

John smiled at his friend ruefully. “One day, perhaps, you shall. I sincerely wish that. But for now, I can only offer you my home.”

And so, here he was. Brian was immensely grateful to have a friend like John and decided that perhaps this respite was just what he needed.

 

~

 

As soon as the coach drew into the front yard, Brian hopped off and walked towards the porch, regarding the manor while the driver busied himself with unloading his luggage. It stood well away from the road, hidden among the trees. Lush lawns and shrubs flanked either side of the driveway leading up the manor’s stone structure.

Brian made his way towards the front door and fumbled with the latch that was slightly jammed from lack of use. A musty scent lingered throughout the house, but there was no sign of any dust. Servants must have cleaned the place, he thought, whilst opening the windows to let the fresh air in. He turned around and jumped when he came face to face with a tall, thin man with beady jade eyes and a mop of rust coloured hair.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the man apologised. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“That’s quite all right,” Brian exhaled, resting a hand over his chest. He held the man’s gaze and narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”

“Peter, sir,” he answered, “the housekeeper.”

“I was told William was the housekeeper,” Brian said sharply, not missing the way Peter’s eyebrows rose in surprise for a fleeting moment. Brian swore he noticed a tinge of amusement lurking behind those green eyes.

“You were told correctly, sir,” he explained, his voice slow. “But William has fallen ill, and I am to replace him. You may check with Mister Deacon if you wish.” His tone was faintly challenging, almost as if he was lying and daring Brian to catch his bluff.

“I might,” Brian said, his eyebrow quirking, vaguely intrigued by the housekeeper. He seemed to have an odd manner about him, but there was something else, which Brian couldn’t comprehend yet. He ran his fingers through his curly, ebony hair and dismissed Peter. “Open the windows on the first floor as well. Let’s get this smell out.”

“Of course, sir,” Peter bowed slightly and set about to his task.

Brian watched him go, knowing well that John knew nothing about Peter. He decided against asking John about him and wanted to see for himself what the man was seemingly hiding.

For the rest of the afternoon, Brian wandered through the rooms, tracing his slender fingers over every piece of furniture and trinket around the manor. Eventually, he stepped out of the back door and into the large backyard. The grass was freshly trimmed, and the flowers were just beginning to blossom, telltale signs of the oncoming spring clear in the way the petals shyly opened.

Brian stepped out of the back gate and gazed into the woods that stretched before him. Momentarily, he looked back at the manor and shrugged before walking into the woods. He meandered through the trees until he could see River Truro in the distance, shining golden under the afternoon sun. The river was still, but for a gentle breeze that ruffled its surface.

Brian walked closer towards the edge where the water was shallow, lazily hugging the shore. A smile came upon his lips, and he promptly shed his shoes and socks and rolled up his trousers. He gingerly stepped into the cool water, wading in until he was ankle deep. His smile widened as the water rippled against his legs, the soles of his feet resting on the moist and slippery pebbles.

He caught a glimpse of the town, a few fishing boats scattered across the coast, in the distance. But he wasn’t particularly keen on venturing anywhere near the town. He was instead looking forward to exploring the forest and come back to the river again. After all, he had all the time in the world.

Soon, the sun was hanging low on the horizon, and Brian made his way back to the manor, feeling strangely content. He let himself in through the back gate and latched it before entering the house. Peter had moved his luggage to the bedroom upstairs, so he went up the wooden stairs and into the bedroom to set about unpacking his belongings.

Later that night, when the sun had set candles illuminated the house. Brian sat alone at the table, eating his supper. Peter walked in, carrying a wine decanter and refilled Brian’s glass.

“Have you eaten, Peter?” Brian asked, taking a sip of his wine.

“I will, sir after you have eaten.”

Brian chuckled to himself. He turned to face the housekeeper, resting his elbow on the table. “You know, you needn't be so formal with me. I never cared for courtly behaviour, and I don’t plan to start any time soon.”

“I’ll keep that mind, sir,” Peter replied, and the two shared a smile.

“Tell me, Peter,” Brian spoke after a few moments of silence. “Did you serve someone else before coming here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why did you leave?”

Peter hesitated, and Brian noticed. “The man I served before is a traveller, sir," he explained slowly. "He no longer required my services because he is never in one place for very long.”

“That’s rather exciting,” Brian wondered aloud, feeling a bit envious.

“Quite so,” Peter agreed. “He travels to escape from normal life. Much like yourself, sir, if I may say so.”

Brian’s eyes grew wide in surprise. “You believe I have escaped?”

Peter nodded. “Possibly, sir, perhaps from your life in the city.”

“That’s quite a deduction, Peter,” Brian said with a grin, surprised by how observant Peter was. “I would have loved to meet this master of yours.”

“I’m sure he would too, sir.”

Following dinner, Brian strolled into the study, hoping to begin his writing. But there was nothing particular in his mind that he wanted to put down on paper that evening. Instead, he sipped on a glass of wine and chose a book from the large bookcase. He was tempted to play the piano that sat in the adjoining room, but the hour was late, and he was weary from the journey.

He made his way back to the living room and settled against the soft cushions of the sofa. He wondered as the book lay open on his lap, what he would have been doing if he were back in London at the moment. He would probably be holed up in his flat, reading until John or one of his other friends called on him. As much as he enjoyed the theatre and other social delights, Brian had realised he was different from those around him. He never craved wealth or social acceptance. He felt bound by circumstance to make rounds through society, in the attempts of getting acquainted with women.

He winced at the mere thought of it. He had long given up trying to court a woman for reasons he guarded with his life, but he wasn’t regretful. He was only burdened by the necessity to carry this secret. John had managed to pry the truth out of him. Despite his initial surprise, John had shown him nothing but kindness and acceptance, and the weight from Brian’s shoulders lifted greatly.

Brian sighed and gazed around the room. A warm fire crackled in the fireplace, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The unforeseen peacefulness caught him by surprise. He wasn’t used to it. Oddly enough, he found himself liking it.

As the clock ticked into the night, Brian retreated to his bedroom. The house was silent, save for the nocturnal sounds coming from the woods. It was eerie, yet strangely comforting. Whilst Brian slipped into his nightshirt, he wrinkled his nose, smelling a lingering scent of tobacco in the room. John and his bloody pipe, he thought and smirked to himself. Before slipping under the sheets, Brian drew back the curtains, letting the pale moonlight flood into the bedroom. He slid under the soft sheets and settled his head on the pillow with a sigh, his eyelids fluttering as he felt sleep creep over him.

However, his nose wrinkled again, and he sniffed the air curiously, a sudden perfume tickling his nostrils. He sat up, sniffing again as he wondered where the sweet scent was coming from. It was familiar and smelled like spring. He turned over and noticed the bedside table. With an intrigued frown, he pulled open the drawer and peeked inside to find a bunch of lilies. Along with it, he noticed, was a leather bound diary. His frown deepened as he picked up the diary and some of the lilies, which looked fresh.

Perhaps Peter had left them inside.

Deeply inhaling the crisp yet mellow scent of the lilies, his drew his attention towards the diary, and he flipped through the yellowed pages. They were filled with drawings and texts that seemed to be poems. This wasn’t John’s, nor was it Peter’s, that much Brian was sure of.

Whose then?

With gentle fingers, Brian flipped to the first page where scribbled were the initials ‘R.M.T.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? I hope to complete the next chapter soon so stay tuned. Please let me know what you think, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :)
> 
> Happy weekend, folks!


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian sets about searching for answers, but will he find them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go with chapter two. My tumblr is @new-purple-shoes, come say hi!

Sunlight streaked through the open windows, spreading a warm glow throughout the bedroom. Brian's eyelids fluttered, and he squinted when the light delicately fell on his face. His eyes eventually opened, the hazel tones looking bright and clear in the morning sun. He stretched and hummed contentedly, his toes curling under the sheets. He had one arm splayed across the pillow and the other curled around the open diary. He had fallen asleep whilst reading the poems under the glow from a candle. He couldn’t remember how long he had stayed awake reading. All he could remember were the words written on the pale yellow pages.

Brian wasn’t unfamiliar with poetry. He had read plenty of poems by renowned poets and writers. But none of those compared to what the diary possessed amongst its pages. The words came flooding back to Brian as he sat up, his thumb tracing the ink on the parchment. They spoke of the sea, the forests and the birds. But unlike every other poem, the words were evocative and raw with passion. They held an intimacy that could have only been as a result of personal experience and indulgence.

These weren’t just poems, Brian realised. They were the events of someone’s life, and Brian was gripped by a strong urge to know who this someone was.

He regarded the small bunch of lilies that were strewn about the bed. Lily of the valley, he realised, picking up one of the sprigs. He hadn’t seen any growing in the vicinity of the manor during his walk and wondered where they could have come from.

Brian left the diary and lilies in the drawer and dressed in a simple shirt and trousers before padding downstairs. The living room was bright and smelled fresh since the windows had been opened wide. Peter was dusting through a bookcase when Brian entered. His first thought was to ask him about the diary, but he decided against it because the last thing he wanted was to unnerve Peter. So he kept quiet, for something told him that the admission of his discovery this soon would be hasty.

“Good morning, sir,” Peter greeted, “I hope you had a pleasant sleep.”

“I did, thank you.”

“Should I set the table for your breakfast?”

“Yes, please,” Brian replied and took a seat at the table.

Following breakfast, Brian wandered through the back garden and eventually decided to take a walk through the woods. A gentle breeze blew; the sound of leaves rustling and birds chirping echoed across the woodland. He was, once more, tempted by the river and began walking towards it. Once he was close enough to the bank, he sat down on the rough grass whilst his gaze followed the river where it would eventually meet the sea. The water shone brilliantly under the morning sun, sparkling when the gentle waves collided. In the distance, the sea itself was calm, an odd seagull flying above the horizon.

Brian wondered if he could live this life every day, without a routine, taking the days as they came. Perhaps it would be charming, but the spark would soon die out just like every other place.

A sudden wind whipped across Brian's face in a whisper of protest. He inhaled deeply as a strange feeling came over him. In spite of his previous uncertainty, he felt an unlikely longing for this place, as if it were secretly asking him to stay and as if something were to occur that would completely catch him unawares.

He smiled to himself for no reason before unlacing his shoes and making his way towards the river once again. The water was cold against his feet, but he didn’t mind. Carefully, he stepped over the slippery pebbles and walked further until the water was nearly up to his knees. He looked towards the sea again, his eyes shining with new hope.

Perhaps a life here wouldn’t be so bad after all.

 

~

 

So passed the first day, and the next and the one after that. The calmness of his surroundings had cleared the fog in his head, and Brian was able to find the will to continue writing his papers. Moreover, a sudden spark of creativity came upon him, and he found himself writing about his stay in Truro, the river, the trees, the birds, much like the poems in the mysterious diary that still lay in the drawer of his bedroom, which was only removed when the candles were lit, and Brian was safely tucked under the covers of his bed.

He often wondered about who it belonged to and had almost questioned Peter on one occasion. But the diary had become his little secret, something he didn’t wish to share or part with.

During the day, Brian spent his time playing the piano, his fingers effortlessly dancing over the black and white keys. Music had always come naturally to him, and he had always aspired to write something of his own. His studies and his busy routine had prevented him in the past. But this newfound mood of delightful laziness led him to play notes and melodies that solely came from within him. A swell of happiness rose in his chest as he played, letting the music flow out of his fingers.

The rest of his time was spent in the garden either reading or writing or simply resting flat on the soft grass, listening to the sounds coming from the forest, watching the clouds roll by. One such afternoon, whilst he was lying on his back with his head pillowed on the grass, there was a sudden clatter of hoofs, and presently, the bell rang. Moments later Peter’s voice called for him through the window.

“Mister Thorpe is here to see you, sir,” he said with a faint lilt of irritation in his voice.

Brian cracked open his eyes. “Who?”

“He lives close to town and is acquainted with Mister Deacon.”

Brian sighed and reluctantly rose to his feet, making his way inside. Momentarily, he caught his reflection on the glass doors of the bookcase. His dark, curly hair was a dishevelled mess, his clothes were rumpled, and his braces lay hanging on his sides rather than sitting on his shoulders. He was hardly presentable, but he remained unconcerned, for he was not in the mood to entertain any guests.

Brian entered the living room where a short, chubby, well-dressed man with a pinched expression was seated on the sofa. When the man’s gaze fell on Brian, he was quite obviously dismayed at his appearance, his stare lingering on Brian's bare feet.

Peter cleared his throat. "Mister Thorpe, may I present Mister Brian May."

“Good afternoon,” Brian greeted.

“William Thorpe,” the man said with a cautious smile as they shook hands. “I heard the house was being prepared for someone to stay and thought John had come down with his family.”

“I’m afraid he isn’t here,” Brian told him. “I am a friend of his from London, and he has lent me the manor for a few weeks.”

“I see,” said Mister Thorpe and scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Do you know if he would be joining you eventually?”

“I am not certain,” Brian frowned, studying Mister Thorpe’s expression. “He has some important matter that keeps him in London at the moment. Do you wish for him to be summoned?”

“Oh no, that wouldn’t be necessary,” the man waved his hand. “But it would be helpful if you could convey the events of the past few weeks to him. We have had some troubles here, you see.”  
“Oh? What sort of troubles?”

“There have been a series of thefts along the coast and docks,” Mister Thorpe explained. “A significant amount of goods and money have been pilfered from the harbour. We believe there is a pirate on the loose here in Truro.”

Brian's eyes widened with interest. “A pirate?”

“Oh yes," Mister Thorpe said exasperatedly. "We believe he is a rogue Englishman and is looting his own countrymen. He is said to be very intelligent and cunning. A bloody menace is what he is. The local police haven’t succeeded in catching him so far. Every time they come close, he slips away and vanishes with his ship. We have searched and searched, but it has all been in vain. The county council is hoping to take more drastic measures to stop this criminal, and since John is a member of the council, his presence here would be greatly appreciated. This pirate is a dangerous man, and we must be wary of him.”

“More than dangerous, it seems to me that he is too clever for you.” Brian couldn’t help the smirk that settled on his lips. He could tell Mister Thorpe’s words were carefully rehearsed to gain his sympathy. But the effect it was having was quite the opposite.

“That is one way of putting it,” the other man defended with a slight scowl and Brian had to bite back a chuckle.

“Well, I wish you luck in catching this pirate soon. And if there is anything I can do…”

“There is nothing much you can do, except stay vigilant,” said Mister Thorpe, standing up. “But do mention this to John if you happen to write to him,” and with that, he took his leave, much to Brian's relief.

Whilst Peter accompanied Mister Thorpe to the door, Brian stretched himself out on the sofa and hoped that the gentleman wouldn’t come calling again. But he couldn’t help thinking about what the man had said. Pirates weren’t an uncommon entity, but from what little Brian knew, they usually restricted themselves to the sea, plundering trading ships and whatnot. A pirate robbing the harbour from right under the noses of the so-called gentry was definitely surprising and rather brazen.

Peter re-entered the living room, interrupting Brian's thoughts. “I am sorry, sir,” he began, “I know you wish to be alone, but this was unexpected. The gentleman refused to leave until he had an audience with you.”

“It’s quite all right, Peter,” Brian assured him. “I presume you know about this pirate that Mister Thorpe spoke of.”

“Yes, sir,” Peter said. “It is the talk of the town, and from what I have heard, the pirate has been robbing local trading ships anchored in the docks.”

“I see,” Brian mused.

Peter regarded Brian’s calm demeanour curiously. “Are you not disturbed by what you heard, sir?”

“Not quite, Peter,” Brian answered. “Of course, I agree with Mister Thorpe that the criminal should be caught. Has he hurt or killed anyone?”

Peter shook his head with a slight vehemence. “No, sir. There have been no reports of death or any other sort of violence.”

Brian hummed thoughtfully. Peter’s manner regarding this was most intriguing, not to mention a little suspicious. For the first time since arriving here, Brian felt a sense of unease grip him. Peter must have read something in his expression.

“You mustn’t worry yourself, sir,” he assured. “There have been no recent sightings, and perhaps, he is long gone.”

Brian wasn’t convinced, but he smiled nonetheless. “I suppose you are right. Besides, how dim-witted can these people be to let a ship full of pirates pass by without them noticing?”

Peter smiled at that, his eyes twinkling with the same amusement that Brian had seen on the day he had arrived in Truro. But it was gone instantly, and Peter went about his usual chores, leaving Brian pondering about him once more. There was something about him, almost as if he knew something that Brian didn’t and he could sense that he was going to find out soon enough.

Brian spent the rest of his day wandering through the back garden, and the woods whilst his mind sorted through the day’s events. It had been rather eventful with the sudden arrival of Mister Thorpe and his intriguing tale. Brian made a mental note to write to John later that evening. He returned to the house just as the sky was beginning to look pink and the sun was hovering over the horizon.

Whilst his dinner was being prepared, he sat down to write his letter to John. After the usual pleasantries, he chose his words carefully when he mentioned his afternoon encounter and the pirate. The last thing he wanted was John rushing down here along with his wife and children. He loved them dearly, of course, but he didn’t want to lose this newfound freedom and solitude. Once he was satisfied, he sealed the letter, ate his supper and was asleep the moment his head hit the pillows.

The curtains were wide open, and the bedroom was bathed in moonlight. It was a little after two in the morning when the faint sound of a door being opened and closed, followed by soft footsteps beneath his window, woke Brian from his slumber. Instantly alert, he rose from the bed and crept towards the window. He hid behind the curtains and surreptitiously peaked through the glass. The back garden was dark, shadowed by the house, but moonlight shone across the woods.

Brian watched and waited, for he knew something was about to occur.

His intuition was proved right when a figure suddenly appeared from the shadows and swiftly ran from the back garden towards a belt of trees. Even from the distance, Brian knew it was Peter, his lean form unmistakable even under the faint light of the moon. What amazed Brian further was when someone joined Peter; a man from what he could see.

Brian held his breath, his eyes sparkling with excitement rather than fear as he watched this midnight rendezvous unfold before him. He saw Peter gesture his hands towards the house and drew back in the shadows in fear of being noticed. The pair continued talking, the stranger’s gaze occasionally flicking towards the house. Soon, both disappeared into the trees, leaving Brian staring after them for a couple of minutes. When he was certain they weren’t going to return, he retreated back to his bed, unable to fall asleep.

His suspicions about Peter had been true. The man was definitely hiding something, and Brian knew the meeting was anything but an innocent gathering between two friends. If Peter was conspiring with that stranger, Brian had to be vigilant. Perhaps he had been a fool to trust Peter. He was unlike any other housekeeper and would have been dismissed at once by someone else. But his manner had intrigued Brian, and he was something out of the ordinary, which had amused him.

Hours later, Brian eventually succumbed to sleep, intent to solve this mystery once and for all.

 

~

 

“Peter, I’d like you to run an errand for me,” Brian said as he was finishing his breakfast the following morning. “I have a letter that has to be posted, and I also have a list of things that need to be purchased.”

“You want me to go into town, sir?” Peter asked with a flicker of unease.

Brain's eyes narrowed. “Yes, please, if it’s not too much of a trouble. I could go myself, but I’d like to stay indoors. I feel a little unwell today.”

“Of course, sir,” was all that the housekeeper said.

Later that morning, after Peter had left for town, Brian shrugged into his jacket and slipped into the back garden with a triumphant smile. He made his way to the belt of trees where he had seen Peter the previous night and noticed a set of footprints that led into the forest. Without hesitation, he followed them, plunging deep within the woods. The river came into view, twisting through the woods as he walked upstream. He had lost sight of the footprints, but he kept walking further. The trees grew thicker around him, and the surroundings were unusually quiet, sending a shiver down his spine.

He was well within the forest when the trees suddenly thinned, and the river broadened. As he reached the bank, he realised the river had branched off and had opened into a creek, still and soundless, secluded among trees. The tide was low, the water ebbing and lazily hugging the shore. The creek twisted around a belt of trees, and Brian walked along the bank, fascinated by his discovery, momentarily forgetting his mission, for the place held a sort of hidden, untouched beauty.

As he approached the corner where the creek turned, his eyes widened, and he stood stunned, for there stood a ship, shrouded by the trees and anchored in the still water. Once his initial astonishment was overcome, he inched closer with cautious steps, staying hidden behind the trees. He noticed the words ‘Black Queen’ written in gold letters beneath the stern. There were three men slung over the side of the ship, chipping off dirt and barnacles, and two men stood on the deck, inspecting their work. From the clothes they wore, Brian could tell this wasn’t an ordinary trading ship.

He suddenly went still, and a cold shiver ran down his spine. His mouth went dry as realisation dawned upon him.

He had stumbled upon the pirate’s hiding place, and this was the pirate’s ship.

No wonder the pirate hadn’t been caught; he had the perfect hiding place. No one would imagine the pirate would hide somewhere so close, yet so remote. He presumed no one even knew the existence of the creek. He had to do something. His conscience screamed for him to run with this newly acquired knowledge and tell someone. But his feet remained anchored to the ground as he stood watching the folded sails of the ship flutter in the gentle wind.

Just as Brian succeeded in calming his bewilderment and began drawing back into the woods, a figure stepped out from behind a tree. Heart racing, he tried to sidestep them and run into the trees. But they were strong and caught hold of him, pinning his arms behind his back. He tried to scream but was cut off by the hand that covered his mouth, and then everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I got a little carried away with this chapter but this particular setting is so much fun to play with. Please let me know what you folks think and, as always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.
> 
> Have a great week!


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian finally meets the pirate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the lovely comments and kudos! I appreciate every single one of them and they keep me going.

It was mid-afternoon when Brain awoke again. He was unsure about how long he had been unconscious, but he was fully aware of where he was - on the pirate’s ship, captured in all likelihood. But, seeing as he had been lying on a bed in a large cabin and not shackled in the lower deck, he had to wonder whether he was a prisoner after all. He shook his head dismissively. But of course, he was a prisoner. What a fool he was to have lingered amongst the trees and allow himself to be caught. He could have easily retreated, gone back to the manor and called for help.

Cursing under his breath, Brian got up and walked to the door. As suspected, it was locked from the outside. He glanced at the large windows of the cabin and, for a moment, considered jumping out, and swimming to his freedom. But he knew he wouldn’t succeed.

With nothing to do but await his fate, Brian nervously let his gaze wander around the spacious cabin. He rarely made presumptions, but it was unlike everything he had come to expect. Sunlight streamed through the windows, bathing the cabin in a warm glow. He regarded the fine wooden panelling that ran along the walls. There was no filth, no smelly rum bottles or cutlasses strewn about. Instead, it was clean with chairs and table, scattered with various scrolls and charts. A large bookcase and several other shelves sat across the table, and a few paintings hung on the wall.

Curiosity and confusion gripped him as Brian ventured to walk around the cabin. He found himself forgetting his fear of having been captured, and his eyes sparkled with interest. This didn’t seem like a dirty pirate’s ship at all. It belonged to someone who was fairly cultured and tasteful.

Just as he picked up a scroll, which he realised was a map with scribbles and markings on it, the door to the cabin opened. Startled, Brian turned around, his gaze falling on a man leaning casually against the doorframe. He gulped slowly, eyes wide with surprise, for this man looked anything but a filthy pirate. He was shorter than Brian with shoulder length, golden hair that caught the sun and framed his young, boyish face. He had big, ocean blue eyes, which were locked with Brian’s, twinkling with unguarded amusement. Surely, this can’t be the same person Mister Thorpe was lamenting about, Brian wondered, perplexed.

“I see you have made yourself at home,” the man said, a teasing smile coming upon his lips.

Brian stared at him, wide-eyed. “I don’t suppose you are expecting an apology,” he said when he finally found his voice.

The man laughed, his voice soft and raspy, making Brian’s stomach flutter. Shutting the door behind him, he walked closer. “No, I suppose not.” He smiled again and slid into the nearest chair. “Sit down, Brian May,” he pointed to the chair opposite him.

Brian stiffened, his eyebrows twisting into a frown. “How do you know my name?”

“I know many things,” the man replied, looking up at Brian from under his ridiculously long eyelashes. “Now please, do sit down.” Wordlessly, Brian complied feeling piqued yet, strangely unthreatened by him. “Tell me, what brings you to my ship?”

Immediately Brian scowled, remembering the events from earlier that afternoon. “I took a wrong turn during my walk and then I was coshed on the head by one of your men,” he said. “Your orders, I presume?”

“My men have orders to seize anyone who ventures to the creek, but I do apologise on their behalf for being rough. You are not hurt, are you?”

The touch of concern in his voice softened something in Brian. “No, I am not.”

“Good,” said the pirate, pulling out a cigarette from his coat pocket. He offered one to Brian, who shook his head and watched as the man gently lit his cigarette before inhaling deeply. He picked up one of the scrolls lying on the table and began scribbling something on it.

Brian continued to watch him, his mind racing with questions. Surely he should be bound and gagged and tossed into a dark corner of the ship. Instead, here he was, sitting in a cabin, making polite conversation.

"What are you going to do with me?" Brian asked.

The pirate hummed thoughtfully, without glancing up from his scribbling. "I'm not altogether sure. You see, no one has ever wandered into the creek before. You are the first one who has been so bold," he added, looking up, his lips quirking.

"It's true then," Brian affirmed. "You are the man who has been looting the docks."

He nodded. “It does seem that I have built up quite the reputation."

"But it is wrong," Brian argued, looking indignant. "You are stealing from people."

"Perhaps," the man shrugged. He must have seen something on Brian's face for he chuckled knowingly. He leant forward, peering at Brian intently. "I know what you are thinking."

"And what might that be?"

"That I'm a scoundrel, a criminal who needs to be locked up for his misdeeds. It's what everyone thinks anyway."

Brian wanted to say yes, but something held him back. Yes, he was thinking about those very things, but he also discerned there was more to this man than what people were led to believe.

"Are they wrong to think of you so?" He asked slowly.

"I suppose not," the pirate said. "They are free to think about whatever they please. But they don't know the whole story."

"What is the whole story then?"

"It’s hard to explain, but I have my reasons for doing what I do, and I don’t make excuses." There was something in those blue eyes, a momentary wistfulness that Brian noticed before it was gone. "Besides, I like the excitement," he added, a gleeful smile coming upon his lips. "Life is far too boring otherwise, don't you think?"

Brian looked away with a wry smile of his own, thinking how easy and effortless it was to be sitting here, on this ship, with sunlight pouring in through the windows and the gentle waves hitting the stern. If someone had told him he would be sitting side by side with a pirate, he would have scoffed at them. And yet, Brian felt almost as if this moment was inevitable like he had been waiting for it to happen.

Brian was slowly starting to forget that he was a prisoner and that this man was possibly dangerous. He was beginning to be quite a delightful mystery, and Brian realised he wanted to know more.

“You have the most interesting expression on your face at the moment,” his voice broke Brian’s thoughts. Brian glanced back at him and saw him grinning. “I would love to know what you are thinking.”

Brian felt his lips quirk into a smile despite himself, his curiosity beginning to outweigh his moral obligation. “They say you’ve been a bloody menace for the local police,” he said, purposefully digressing.

The pirate laughed, stubbing his cigarette on a nearby dish. “The local gentry tends to exaggerate everything. Besides, it’s awfully amusing to see the pompous townsfolk so very flustered.”

Brian couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped him. “They could catch you, you know.”

“Perhaps, but don’t count on it.”

“Don’t be presumptuous; I found you, didn’t I? What’s to say someone else doesn’t?”

“Is that a touch of concern I hear?”

Brian scoffed. “What makes you think I’m concerned?”

“Don’t worry,” the man smirked at him in a manner that made the back of Brian’s neck go hot. “I’m flattered.” He rose from his chair and walked towards the window, looking out into the forest. “But you are probably right,” he admitted softly. “You did find me with relative ease, and perhaps I have spent far too long hiding here.”

Brian got up from his chair and went to stand beside him, watching the leaves and the tall grass flutter in the gentle breeze. “Why are you a pirate?”

The man tilted his head letting their eyes meet. “Have you ever thought life to be insufferably dull? And wanted nothing more than to run away from it?”

Brian blinked, the question catching him unawares. He pulled on his lower lip with his teeth thoughtfully. “Yes,” he answered truthfully after a moment of silence.

“That’s precisely why,” the pirate beamed at him.

Warmth prickled under Brian’s skin as he stared into those blue eyes. There was something incredibly raw and carefree in the way they sparkled, and Brian felt something loosen in his chest. Something that had been tightly wound and was pulling at him from the inside.

He was no longer troubled by the fate that awaited him. At that moment, all he could wonder about was how grateful he was to have stumbled upon the ship and met the very man himself.

This pirate was now his secret, for he realised he would never be able to see the man locked up behind bars.

“What is going to happen to me now?” Brian asked quietly. “Am I your prisoner?”

“Nothing and I have no desire to make a prisoner out of you,” he said, retreating back to his chair. “Something tells me that I can trust you, Brian.”

The utterance of his name in that soft, dulcet voice made Brian blush, his cheeks turning red. “You are awfully sure of yourself.”

As Brian stepped closer to the table, a whiff of a familiar scent caught his nose. He glanced around and noticed a small vase stuffed with a bunch of lilies nestled on the shelf. His lips parted in a soft gasp, his eyes going wide in astonishment.

“It was you!” He exclaimed.

“Pardon me?”

“It was your diary I found in my bedroom.” Brian paused before his eyebrows shot up again. “You have been sleeping in that bed.”

A look of mischief came upon his face as the pirate snickered. “I was wondering where I had left that. How very careless of me.”

Brian huffed, shaking his head in bewilderment. “I should have realised it sooner. You are the man Peter worked for before he came here.”

“Quite so, but Peter has always been here, working for me whenever I happen to visit this part of the country.”

“Have you been living in the manor all this time then?”

“Until you arrived, at least. It was rather sudden, and perhaps why I forgot my diary in your room.”

“How very roguish of you.” Brian crossed his arms in feigned pique. “It is rather improper to sleep in another man’s bed.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Brian flushed a deeper shade of red, the implication behind those words sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. They held each other’s gaze until Brian realised he had forgotten to ask him the most important question of all. “Your initials, R.M.T., what do they stand for?”

“Roger Meddows Taylor,” the pirate said with a chuckle and stood up before extending his hand out, which Brian took with a shy laugh.

 

~

 

Brian walked back to the manor with a smug smile that refused to leave his lips. The past hour had seemed to be something from a dream, a distant dream that he had imagined would never come true. And yet, here he was, tingling with the excitement of having met a pirate and somewhat guilty of having enjoyed it rather than reporting it. His smile widened when he knew that this was not to be the first and the last time he would be seeing the pirate, Roger.

Whilst whispering the name to himself, Brian all but hurried back to the manor; there were only a few hours left until nightfall. He had left the ship in a hurry for he didn’t want Peter to grow anxious about his whereabouts. Roger must have sensed his reluctance to leave and had invited himself for supper that evening before seeing him off with a bright smile.

As he came to the house, he could see Peter standing by the living room windows, almost as if he was awaiting Brian’s return. Having discovered Peter’s secret, Brian no longer had any suspicions about the housekeeper.

“Ah, Peter,” Brian called out cheerfully. “I had been out walking, and it took longer than I expected.”

“I hope you were not lost, sir,” Peter said, keeping his expression indifferent in an attempt to mask his thoughts. “You were gone for quite some time.”

“I wasn’t lost,” Brian said nonchalantly whilst he settled on the sofa. “I stumbled upon a creek, and I wanted to take a closer look.”

“A c-creek, sir?”

Brian bit his lips, holding back the giggle that was threatening to escape. He wondered how long he could tease Peter before he told him the truth. “Oh yes, a creek. I didn’t know it even existed. Makes for an excellent hiding place, does it not?”

Peter, who had managed to maintain a straight face, was beginning to look a bit flustered. “I-I wouldn’t know, sir. I have never ventured that far into the forest.”

“Oh come now, Peter. Surely, you must have been there,” Brian paused, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at the housekeeper, “to meet with your master.”

“How did you—” Peter trailed off looking aghast. But as he regarded Brian’s knowing grin, he choked out a relieved laugh. “So you have met at last.”

“At last? You knew we would meet?”

“I had imagined it would happen, although not quite so soon. However, I could not have predicted the consequence.”

“What if I had been against his… way of life?”

“It was a possibility, sir, but I can see that you are not… at least not like the others.” This time Peter’s expression was unguarded, no longer inscrutable. And Brian finally felt he could trust him.

“Well, now that everything is out in the open,” Brian began, “I must tell you, I will be joined by Roger for supper tonight.”

“Very well, sir.”

“Make sure the other servants know nothing of this.”

“Of course, sir.”

After he dismissed Peter, Brian made his way upstairs to his room, needing to sort his thoughts. He flopped onto his bed with his head resting on the soft pillows and wondered what Roger was doing that very moment. Whether he was instructing his men around the ship or if he was at his table, pouring over his charts and planning one of his many quests in that quaint cabin of his. Perhaps he was laid on his back, quite like Brian, thinking about him and their afternoon spent together.

Brian could feel the heat of a blush creeping up on his face and shook that particular thought away. Having met the man but for a few long minutes wasn’t remotely enough to harbour feelings for him. But he couldn’t help but feel instinctively drawn to him.

With a sigh, Brian reached for the diary inside the drawer. The lilies had started to wilt, but their scent still lingered. He spent the rest of the evening leafing through the diary, absorbing every word and letting himself get lost in the world among the pages. Peter had knocked on his door at some point, bringing him tea.

And before he knew it, the sky had turned into a deep shade of pink and darkness fell over the room. With only an hour left until his guest arrived, he found himself standing before the wardrobe and pondering on what to wear since his clothes from the afternoon were mildly soiled and rumpled. He shrugged into a pearl white shirt, pulled on a pair of black trousers and clicked his braces in place. He ran his fingers through his dark, curly hair, setting them in place before making his way to the living room, where he helped Peter light a fire and a few candles.

The house was silent, the candles casting dancing shadows on the walls. Brian took a deep breath and walked towards the back of the house. The curtains of the window were drawn, so he pulled them back and opened the windows, letting in the night’s breeze and a sliver of moonlight. As he did so, he could see Roger’s silhouette appear through the trees, walking towards the manor.

Brian’s pulse quickened as he awaited his guest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I love writing this, I struggled with this chapter. Conversations are sometimes so difficult to write and this one has been edited and re-edited at least 20 times. Please let me know what you think? Have a good weekend!


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Roger share a meal, and Brian learns a little more about him. But there's also trouble on the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so very sorry for such a huge gap between the chapters. I have been so drained with my work keeping me busy. But I finally feel motivated enough to write. I really appreciate the comments and kudos, and I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

Brian couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his lips as he regarded Roger. He was dressed in a thin linen shirt that hung loosely on his shoulders over a pair of breeches. His coat was long and charcoal grey, flapping elegantly behind him as he walked. His hair was slightly dishevelled, gleaming under the pale light of the moon. Despite his seemingly simple appearance, to Brian, Roger looked rakishly handsome.

Roger smiled at him as he stepped in through the back door and into the living room.

“It’s strange, entering this house as a guest, and not some fugitive,” he admitted with a mischievous wink, moving around the manor with an apparent familiarity.

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Why, has no one else ever invited you into their homes?”

“Not everyone is so kind towards men who are on the run from the law.” Roger glanced at him, a smirk settling on his lips.

They held each other’s gaze for a moment until Brian turned his eyes away, a sudden shyness coming upon him. He cleared his throat, tipping his head towards the dining room. “Shall we?”

Roger nodded and followed Brian as he led the way.

The room was dark, the only light coming from the candles that adorned the table. Shadows danced on the walls, and faint nocturnal sounds echoed from the outside. Peter had set two plates across each other with two glasses and a bottle of wine. It wasn’t altogether elaborate, but there was something about it that felt awfully illicit in the most pleasant manner.

“I must say, Peter never made any such preparations for me before,” Roger observed, eyeing the silver cutlery shinning against the blaze of the candles. “I am offended.”

“Perhaps he was worried you would steal all the silverware,” Brian teased.

Roger scoffed at him whilst sliding into the chair. “What do you take me for? A petty thief?”

Brian shrugged with a sly twist of his lips as he took his seat. “What else do pirates do, if not steal silverware from the homes of unassuming country folk?”

“I’ll have you know my standards are much higher than that,” Roger declared, tilting his head up in mock pride.

“Is that so? Then what is it that pirates do?”

“Loot a rich Spanish galleon, drink lots of rum and swing around in the rigging,” Roger replied, resting his elbow on the table, peering at Brian with amusement.

Brian rolled his eyes, his lips quirking as Peter came in. He greeted Roger with a small smile before he laid their food on the table and poured the wine. With a quick nod, he quietly left the two men alone.

As they ate exchanging smiles, Roger asked him about London, about his life in the city. They spoke with genuine interest, and Brian wondered at how unexpectedly pleasant their conversation was. He knew Roger was anything but a ruffian on an escapade. But he also came to the realisation that Roger was intelligent and had a thirst for knowledge. He found himself talking about his studies and his endeavours as a budding astronomer. Roger listened keenly, his blue eyes twinkling with unguarded interest.

The clock had ticked well into the night when Roger blew the candles and led the way into the living room. The gentle crackle of the low fire was the only audible sound as he went to stand by the window, pushing a cigarette between his lips. Brian sat down against the soft cushions of the sofa, watching the other man as he lit his cigarette, blowing a wisp of smoke into the air.

“The manor looked very different when I first came here,” Roger said.

“How long has it been since you have been here?” Brian asked.

Roger turned to face him, leaning against the window pane. “I have been here all my life,” he replied and chuckled when Brian’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I am from Truro. I wasn’t born here, but I was raised here.”

Brian’s frown only deepened. “What about your family?”

“They don’t live here anymore,” Roger said, looking away. “As a matter of fact, I haven’t seen them in years, but I make sure they are cared for. Besides, the crew is my family now.”

For a while, there was silence between them for Brian didn’t quite know what to say. He rose from the sofa and went to stand beside the other man, contemplating his next words.

“Earlier this afternoon, you said to me you became a pirate because you wanted to run away from life,” Brian remarked. “What did you mean by that?”

Roger met his eyes, a thoughtful expression darting across his face. “It was, perhaps, impulsive of me to have worded it so,” he said slowly. “I had grown weary of the life I was leading. I wanted to run away from the misery of it all.”

“Misery?” Brian asked, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. “What do you mean?”

Roger gave him a wry smile. “I’m afraid the story is bound to put a damper on this lovely evening.” Brian was about to argue when Roger placed a hand on his arm. “I promise to tell you another time,” he assured.

Brian reluctantly nodded. “Didn’t it ever bother you though? That the idea of piracy is wrong.”

“No, it didn’t.” Roger shook his head. “I take from those who can afford to lose a little portion of their wealth. Besides, I do not keep everything I take. Much of it is given away to those who need it more.”

“You seem to be awfully righteous for someone who is a pirate,” Brian said, amazement evident on his face.

Roger chuckled. “I can assure you that I am not. Not entirely, anyway. My crew and I wholly tend to indulge in the wealth I acquire.”

“I’ve noticed,” Brian agreed. “How did Peter come to be your servant?”

“Peter lived in Penzance with his mother,” Roger explained. “When I first met him, he was struggling to make ends meet. He and his mother could barely afford a meal. I managed to save him from a particular scrape, which was no fault of his. He has been one of the faithful ever since.”

“Why does he not sail with you?”

“That question can only be answered by Peter,” Roger replied. “I believe he finds the land much more comforting than the sea. At least that is what he’d have me believe. He made his choice, and I shall respect that.”

Brian smiled. “Do all your crew members have such interesting beginnings?”

“Most of them do, yes,” Roger laughed. “Contrary to what most people would have you believe, my crew isn’t full of scoundrels who enjoy causing trouble. They are just a band of misfits who don’t seem to belong anywhere else.”

“That’s rather fascinating,” Brian murmured, turning to gaze out the window.

Moonlight was shining down on the backyard as Brian let his mind ponder over everything that had transpired since that afternoon. He found himself profoundly moved by all that Roger had told him, his urge to know more about this beguiling man only growing. When he glanced back, their eyes met. Neither man said a word for they were seized in an intense gaze that seemed to speak much more.

Brian felt something tugging at his chest, something that he recognised as a deep sense of longing, which he hadn’t felt in a long time. Heat flooded his cheeks when Roger’s lips curved in a knowing grin. He began to feel naked under his gaze and was certain Roger was reading him like an open book. He wanted to look away, and yet he didn’t want the spell to be broken.

It was only when Roger whispered his name softly, that Brian blinked, releasing a breath he didn’t realise that he was holding.

“Brian,” Roger whispered. “I want to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

“I have a proposition for you,” Roger announced, and Brian found himself holding his breath all over again. “Would you sign your name amongst the faithful and join my crew?”

“…what?” Brian gasped, his lips parting and eyes widening in disbelief. Had he heard the words correctly? He wasn’t certain.

“Would you like to sail with me?”

He stared at Roger, studying the soft creases of his face, a myriad of emotions cascading through his mind. He had arrived at the manor but a week ago, seeking to calm the restlessness that had been simmering within him. What he had imagined being a quiet few weeks in the idyllic countryside changed when he stumbled upon the creek.

The restlessness had returned, but it had a sweet tinge of excitement. He had a sudden vision of himself on the ship with Roger, sailing on the blue waters with the sun high and radiant in the sky. He could feel the calmness of the sea absorb him, and the anticipation of an adventure thrum under his skin.

“Yes,” he heard his voice whisper.

Roger’s eyes grew wide. “Yes?”

“Yes,” Brian echoed a little louder. “I would like that very much.”

“Excellent,” Roger exclaimed, bringing his hands together. “Although, you do realise that there will be some laws broken, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” Brian said, surprised at how unperturbed he was, and felt all the lovely wickedness of breaking the rules.

Roger glanced at the clock above the fireplace and sighed. “I must take your leave. It’s late, and I have been idle for far too long.”

“Will you be sailing soon?” Brian asked, following Roger as he walked into the back garden.

“Yes, my ship is no longer weather-bound, and I have a feeling my men are growing lazy.” Roger stepped closer, his fingers finding Brian’s as he lifted their joined hands between them. “Do visit soon, if you can,” he said softly, looking into Brian’s eyes, the pad of his thumb softly tracing across Brian’s knuckles. “You can venture into the creek without fear, and you are most welcome on my ship.”

“I will,” Brian promised, shivering at the touch as tingles shot up his arm.

Roger winked as he withdrew his hand, letting their fingertips graze. “Goodnight, Brian.”

“Goodnight, Roger,” Brian called back, as Roger stepped out the gate and walked into the belt of trees and back to his ship.

Brian watched him go until he couldn’t see him any longer, still feeling the warmth of Roger’s fingers in his own.

~

He awoke late the next morning, memories of the past evening lingering pleasantly in his mind. He stretched lazily, reluctant to leave the warmth of his bed. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stared at the sunlight streaming in through the windows, his thoughts wandering. A quiet huff of laughter fell from his lips when he recalled that he had agreed to join Roger’s crew.

Brian knew it was impulsive and altogether uncharacteristic of him. He was hardly the sort of man who did anything so audacious, and yet he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt more content than he did this morning. The feeling was so foreign to him, but at the same time, he came to realise he had found something, which he had deeply desired. He was still fiercely driven towards studies and his research, and he knew to join a pirate’s crew was perhaps not ideal. He didn’t know a thing about sailing or what entailed being part of a crew.

But Brian felt surer of himself now than he ever did.

A knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts and presently, Peter entered, his brows knit and lips pursed.

Brian sat up on his bed, regarding him. “You look worried, Peter. What’s the matter?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, sir,” Peter began solemnly. “But Mister Thorpe is here, and he wishes to speak with you.”

Brian frowned. “Again? What does he want?”

“I believe he wants to discuss the pirate. He is with another gentleman, Victor Sheffield, who lives across town. He is also part of the council.”

Brian’s eyes widened. “Is it about last evening? Have they found out?”

“No, sir,” Peter assured him quickly. “They know nothing.”

“Good.” Brian heaved a sigh of relief.

“I told them you were asleep and were not be disturbed, but they are persistent.”

Brian sighed, running his fingers through his curls. “Maybe I should hear what they have to say. It could be helpful.”

“Yes, sir,” Peter agreed. “I will let them know you will be down shortly.”

Brian nodded as Peter took his leave. He quickly dressed and made his way downstairs, nervously wiping his palms on his trousers.

The two men were seated in the living room. Both stood when Brian entered.

“I apologise for intruding again, Mister May,” Thorpe said as they shook hands before taking a seat. “But it was a matter of urgency.”

“It’s quite alright,” Brian said with a hesitant smile and sat down opposite the two men. “What can I do for you?”

“We need you to write to John immediately and request him to come here at once.”

“Whatever for, Mister Thorpe?” Brian asked, surprised by the sudden request.

“This pirate menace of course,” replied Thorpe. “There was a council meeting, and we have concluded that the local police are not capable enough. So, we have decided to seek help by summoning the navy. We need John’s presence here since he is also a member of the council.”

“I did mention the problems here in my previous letter to John,” Brian explained. “But I haven’t received a reply.”

“We didn’t want to disturb him, but the matter is serious now. You must send for him at once,” Thorpe insisted.

Brian cleared his throat uncomfortably, shifting in his seat. “Of course.”

“You are, I trust, sufficiently protected here,” said Victor Sheffield, who had been silently watching Brian. He seemed to be in his late forties with a lean stature, narrow eyes and a sharp nose.

Brian met his gaze. “Yes, I am.”

“And can your servants be trusted?” He asked, lowering his voice. “We suspect some of the townsfolk to have been bribed by the pirate.”

“I have had no cause to suspect anything,” Brian replied, equal parts unsettled and annoyed by Sheffield’s smug manner.

“We also believe the pirate is hiding somewhere along the coast, on the river,” Thorpe added. “Someone ought to have seen something.”

“Have you searched the river?” Brian questioned, biting his lower lip apprehensively.

“We have combed the entire county, but it would seem that this pirate seems to know our coast better than we do.”

“I don't suppose you have seen anything suspicious here, have you? The manor does have a direct view of the river.” Sheffield arched an eyebrow, his eyes watching Brian shrewdly.

Brian shook his head. “I can assure you that I have seen nothing that is of a sinister nature.”

“That is good then,” Thorpe stated. “Be wary, Mister May, this pirate is a dangerous man.”

“Perhaps the pirate has left the coast. Have you considered that?” Brian quipped.

“I wish that were true,” the plump man sighed. “But we are certain he is still around. It has been far too quiet, and he is most dangerous when things are quiet.”

“He has fooled us in the past, but we will catch him this time,” Sheffield said. “And when do, he shall be hanged.”

Brian tensed, a sudden dread gripping him. “That is rather cruel of you. He has merely robbed your possessions. It’s not as if he has committed murder that you speak so callously.”

“I fear I do not share your sentiment,” Sheffield retorted, his cheeks flushing with irritation. “He is a criminal and will be brought to justice. We shall take your leave now,” he added, rising to his feet. He nodded once at Brian and took his leave.

“Sheffield and a lot of the others are very near with their money,” Thorpe muttered slowly when the other man was out of earshot, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “They feel very strongly about this situation.”

“That is hardly a reason to be quite so bloodthirsty,” Brian remarked as they rose and walked towards the door.

Thorpe merely pursed his lips with a resigned expression. With a quick nod, he climbed into the carriage and rode off.

~

Brian walked back into the house, feeling a lot less pleasant than he had earlier that morning. His good mood had effectively been spoilt, and he was left troubled. He was gripped with the urge of running to the creek and warning Roger, but he knew he had to be careful. He couldn’t bring any suspicion upon himself or Peter.

The said man was standing in the living room, his expression unsmiling.

“We may have a problem on our hands, Peter,” Brian said to him.

“Yes, sir. I didn’t think the matter would escalate quite so soon.”

“Does Roger know that they are searching the river?”

“I’m afraid he does, sir,” Peter replied.

“Why does he remain anchored in the creek then?” Brian implored. “Have you told him that he could be in danger of being captured?”

“Yes, sir, but the captain is a very stubborn man,” Peter murmured ruefully. “He doesn’t always pay heed to me. You must ask him to be vigilant.”

Brian blinked, puzzled. “What makes you think he would listen to me?”

“Something tells me that he would, sir,” Peter said mysteriously and, with a quick nod, went back to his duties leaving Brian rather perplexed.

His thoughts drew back to Sheffield’s words, and he shivered. The mere thought of Roger being captured and executed left him terrified. He knew he would have to venture into the creek soon and warn him.

He made a solemn promise to himself that he would do everything he could to protect Roger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a plot finally! There will be a lot more action soon, I promise. I'm sorry if this chapter seemed too short. I'm trying to write longer chapters, and hopefully the next will be longer than this. Please let me know what you think? Comments and kudos are always appreciated :)


End file.
